I acquire many ideas for stories on the way to and from feeding the horses. Since I do this twice a day, I usually get much data that I turn into stories. I have always done my most profound and creative thinking while walking. I can't walk for miles through the woods and fields and think profound thoughts like I used to because the arthritis in both knees starts to send me obscene messages after a half mile or less of walking. The older I get the more I find myself waxing nostalgic. I am developing a strong desire to visit more and more with my old Public School classmates, who are still in the area. This desire is even stronger than wanting to see my old college and graduate school classmates and even old military buddies. My theory about my wanting to hang around my high school classmates is because having spent 12 years together, we grew up together during our formative years, which results in very deep bonds. At least that is the way it is with me. If you have noticed lately, many of my story themes have focused on old school days.

 

On the way back from the barn the other day, some of the mischievous things we did in school suddenly started flooding my brain. The following snippets are the result of that flood.

 

The very first thing that hit me was the fun we guys had with the metal folding chairs in the music room in High School. One or others of us would sit in one or several metal chairs and rub our backs back and forth several times on the back of the chair. What really enhanced and intensified the effect was if we were wearing sweaters, hence, this was mainly done during the winter months. What we did, of course, was to secretly charge up the chair with static electricity, hopefully without being noticed by anyone especially our music teacher, Mr. Garrett! When some poor unsuspecting fellow student (usually a girl) would sit in the chair, a loud pop would ensue and the "sittee" would screech and immediately jump up from the chair! I don't know how many volts static electricity generates, but it really gave the unfortunate "sittee" one heck of a shock! This resulted in small grins by us guys. We avoided being too obvious in our laughter and amusement since Mr. Garrett may have become suspicious. Along with our High School Principal, "Bobo", Mr. Garrett, and Miss Purcell were 2 teachers you didn't fool with. That made it all the more challenging and enjoyable for us guys. Of course while doing other mischievous things, we sometimes would get caught by Mr. Garrett, and then we were really in trouble. It almost always resulted in him escorting us right to "Bobo's" office to suffer the wrath from both he and Mr. Garrett. I'm here to tell you that it was not a pleasurable experience! (Of course, it was never me, but I heard about it from other guys who went through it). You're no doubt wondering if I think all of my readers are that naïve. I sure hope so! J

 

Another of the favorite things we guys did was to wait until someone would go the high school guys' restroom. There was a rather long hallway then you turned right to use the faculties. (See sketch on the bottom of the page). If some guy, especially one we disliked went into the restroom and didn't exit it right away, we figured that he was in a very vulnerable position and helpless. We would then open the door and shut off the lights from the switch that was located just inside the door on the right hand wall. Because there were no windows in the restroom, it got totally pitch dark when the lights were turned off. The perpetrator would then smile and innocently walk down the hall. I was often the perpetrator and sometimes one of the hapless victims so I was well aware how pitch dark it would get in there. My most outstanding memory was when I decided one time just to turn the lights off not knowing whether anyone was in there or not. One time I did that and suddenly heard a voice from the darkness that said, "Ah Ah," It sounded like a teacher's voice that I always assumed and hoped was "Bobo"! Right after he said that, I turned the lights back on and the voice said, "That's better". Of course, right after hearing that, I again turned the lights off then walked at a fast pace down the hall and quickly got out of sight! I never knew which adult was in there, but I have always hoped it was "Bobo". At our 28^{th year} class reunion, "Bobo" was there, and I was tempted to ask him if it was he who was in there when I turned out the lights. I figured there were only two possible answers he could give. Either he would say, "I don't remember that", or "So you were the one"! Since discretion is the better part of valor, I though it best not to ask! Therefore, for the last 42 years I have always assumed and hoped it was he. Ah, revenge is so sweet whether real or imagined!

 

Occasionally we had a class in the typewriter classroom (not related to typing). One of us guys would hurry to get in the classroom ahead of the teacher and any girl who could have squealed on us and set the timer to go off anywhere from 10 to 15 minutes into the class time. The teacher was always annoyed when the alarm went off. I could never figure out if they heard it ticking why they didn't just shut it off. I guess they weren't paying attention, which is only fitting for us guys since we weren't paying attention either.

 

When a substitute teacher was present, we guys showed no mercy! We usually didn't know about the substitute teacher until they came through the door right after we were all seated. Usually it was Mrs. Carson. (Boy, John, did we ever give your poor mother a hard time!) If we had prior information that a substitute teacher was coming in for the day, we would hide the chalk. The hapless substitute would then have to rummage through the teacher's desk to find a box of new chalk. It never occurred to us ahead of time to go through the desk, find, and hide the box of chalk.  I think the thing that restrained us was that we felt it was too risky for any student to go through a teacher's desk. Well, at least we had a few ethics in those days (very few).

 

One of our favorite deceptions was during "study hall" (now there's a contradiction in terms). We would go up to the teacher who had study hall and request to go to the school library. The standard procedure was that the study hall teacher would fill out a slip of paper with our name on it, our destination, and the time of departure. When we left the library, the librarian would fill in the time we left and sign it. On our return to study hall, we had to turn the slip over to the study hall teacher. Gee, you would almost think that they didn't trust us. One trick some of us guys did was to go off and goof off, anywhere but to the school library. Before we went back to study hall, we would put the appropriate time down on the slip then forge the librarian's signature. Mrs. Nickols' signature was easy to copy. The hapless study hall teachers never caught on as far as I know. At least I never was caught. It is amazing that the study hall teachers never grew suspicious of my frequent trips to the school library since they must have known that I never studied or read any books all through school. Ironically, after high school I've read literally thousands of books over the last 42 years. As they say, "Go figure". I think it was due to my stubborn nature and that I love to read books when I'm not being told I have to. In an old previous story, I reveal the secret of doing written book reports on books I never read. I can't recall the title of it at the moment. I would encourage all of you to go through each of my 300 plus stories and find it. Winter is starting to descend on us and since you all will be spending more time inside you might as well do something constructive with your time. Unless, of course you have something more exciting to do such as watch paint dry or watch a drag race between your pet snails or something.

 

One of the fun things we did in elementary school was to throw the swings over the top of the swing bar. After a number of times, the swing seat would be hanging about 6 feet in the air. It's a good thing the janitor, who was Mr. Goodman, never caught us since he undoubtedly was the one who had to take a ladder, climb up and free the swings which had the chains all wrapped in several layers  around the top bar. One of the really nasty things we did while winding the chains around the top bar was to twist the chain by rotating the swing seat now and then, which really made it difficult to get it untangled. (One of Mr. Goodman's daughters is a story fan. Hey Bonnie, if your dad came home after a long day at school and was grouchy and uttered, "Those #@$# kids were messing around with those #@$# swings again today!" Now you know why. Gee, Bonnie, I wish I could recall whom the kids were who occasionally did this, but my memory is just so fuzzy about things that happened so many years ago.)

 

Well, there were a lot more things we used to do in school to make general nuisances of ourselves, but space does not permit me to do it here at this time. As more things come to mind, rest assured that I will cover them in a future part 2.

 

I think if I were in school these days, I would have to be escorted by an armed guard all day while in school. I'm so thankful I am a baby boomer because back in the 1950's and 60's public schools expected kids to behave appropriately and they did for the most part. Well, there were kids who were exceptions. Maybe in part 2 of this story it will occur to me who those kids were because at the present, I just can't recall exactly who they were  On the other hand, I guess I won't mention any of their names, including Tim's or mine because all the names are classified and will not be declassifed and released until the year 2185.  They are all securely locked away in one of my safety deposit boxes at a certain bank, which will remain nameless. J